Addiction
by ContradictionWalking
Summary: Eames is terrified of needles. He is also addicted to them. Slash!


**A/N: This story was written quite a while ago, and was inspired by a good friend of mine. Found it while sorting through my documents, thought I might as well put it up. Apologies in advance for super long sentences that possibly make no sense on the first read. Also, I know it's not what was implied in the movie, but I think, for this, Arthur and Eames meet for the first time on the Inception job... Think that's it. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: Christopher Nolan is God; I just come to play in his world on the weekends.**

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Eames is terrified of needles. He is also addicted to them.

When he was fourteen, he got into some bad business, fell into the wrong crowd. When his self-proclaimed 'best mate' first presented him with a syringe full of heroin, he nearly passed out – but the lure of the drug, the whispered promise of the places it would take him, prompted him into accepting the offering, into allowing Michael to roll up his sleeve and sink that evil device into his arm, force that evil substance into his veins.

And he thought, _fuck_.

It took several years before someone pointed out that this love-hate relationship he had developed with the needle currently lodged in his forearm would end up killing him. Interestingly, that someone just happened to have something else for him to pump into his veins – a substance that was less harmful, certainly, but an effect that was no less addictive.

And so the love-hate relationship began again.

By the time Cobb found him again, he was the best forger in the business – but he was still terrified of needles.

The dreams had become a substitute for the drugs by then, and he knew it. The job Cobb described to him sounded perfect: three levels of dreamspace on one shot – the maximum high achieved with the minimum application. The fact that he would be working with another 'best in the business' – a point man he had heard so much about – along with the added challenge of it being an Inception job was just the icing on the cake. At least, until he met Cobb's point man.

And he thought, _fuck_.

He bantered, winked, flirted outrageously and always, _always_ received a warm smile and a heated look for his efforts. He was not accustomed to falling hard and fast, but he found it wasn't a particularly unpleasant experience.

Yusuf had wanted to use him for his experiments with the Somnacin compound, and he had broken into a cold sweat. 'Sedative' meant 'drugs'; 'drugs' meant 'needles'; 'experiments' meant '_lots and lots_ of needles'. Despite his cocky, confident exterior, he was still terrified of needles.

Somehow, Arthur had seen and understood his reaction, and had offered, with a knowing look, to take his place. He responded by laughing each and every time Yusuf kicked Arthur's chair over, but was always there with a hand to help the man up, and he knew that Arthur saw in his eyes that he was grateful.

Just as he knew that, when they got out of this, he wanted to secret Arthur away for a long time and become addicted to him instead of the needles. Feeling his heart warm every time Arthur looked his way made him secure in the knowledge that doing so would not be difficult – and it would certainly be a much healthier option.

But now they have finished the job, and Arthur is gone – disappeared into the ether somewhere and no one, not even Cobb, can tell him how to find him, how to contact him.

And he thinks, _fuck_.

He flies straight back to London, to his flat, to his very own PASIV machine, and the first thing he does when he gets through the door is hook himself up.

He dreams of those warm smiles, those heated glances; of those hands on him and under him and _in_ him, doing things to his body that make him scream and beg and plead for more.

But it is not perfect – nowhere near, in fact. He has never held Arthur, never tasted him, and so his dreams, while filled with passion, are also filled with familiarities, similarities that have nothing to do with Arthur and everything to do with every other good fuck he has had in his life in his subconscious' attempt to simulate what he wants, needs, _craves_.

He tells himself that it is unimportant, that it is enough. He knows that it isn't – but he doesn't stop.

Eames is terrified of needles. He is addicted to them because he is terrified of being alone.

But when his projection of Arthur suddenly whips out a gun and shoots him in the head, and he wakes up panting and shaking and drenched in sweat, and finds that Arthur – the _real Arthur _– is there, holding him and shushing him and telling him that he's sorry, that he's here, that it's all right now, something inside him breaks and he begins to cry.

When Arthur kisses him, it's like coming home.

And he thinks, _**thank fuck**_.

When Cobb shows up at their favourite bar two years later, he accepts the job without a thought, this time with Arthur's hand held securely in his beneath the table.

Eames is still terrified of needles, but he has a new addiction now, and he knows he will never have to face them alone again.


End file.
